Microwaves
by CaptainAssmericaInTights
Summary: It's 3 in the morning, and Tony is having relationship issues with the microwave. Steve is watching from the doorway. (Rated T for language. Stony if you squint. Please R&R!)


**Microwaves**

**by HogwartsAsWeKnowIt**

I do not own Marvel.

_I am bored._

_ And am supposed to be sleeping. _

_Therefore, here's another Stony bromance one-shot that will be God knows how long!_

**x.X.x**

As usual, Tony had been hiding from the rest of the world, isolated in his lab located in the thirty-third floor of Stark Tower. He had stayed down there experimenting for 46 hours straight, with little sleep, a lot of AC/DC, and an excessive amount of coffee. Food hadn't really been a top priority as he struggled to make his latest invention work: and Iron Man suit complete with retro-reflection panels and lasers that could permanently blind his opponent. Although he wasn't quite finished, he could feel the undeniable hunger creeping in.

"Hey, J, how long have I been working?" Tony wiped his greasy hands on a rag.

"Exactly one day and twenty hours," the AI replied. "I would recommend sleep before Miss Potts threatens you, sir."

Cursing JARVIS's personality chip, Tony snapped back, "I can take care of myself, thank you very much. What's in the fridge? And who else in here?"

Since the chemical chaos called the Avengers had moved into Stark Tower, it was impossible to know what was going on half of the time. Natasha and Clint frequently left on field missions, Thor had nine realms to defend, and well, you get the idea. It was only Rogers and Stark most of the time, and therefore their relationship had grown from "I will tolerate you if the existence of planet earth depends on it" (like in New York) to "I swear I won't murder you in your sleep". It wasn't that much of an improvement, but it was progress. Sorta. If it weren't for Pepper, the two boys would've probably tried to hurt each other physically...many times. They had gone a few rounds with Tony in the suit actually, but it was all for training purposes.

"Dr. Banner, Captain Rogers, and Miss Potts are sleeping on floors 48, 35, and 39. In the fridge, there is broccoli pasta, chicken salad, or-"

"Jesus! How do I live with these people?! Stupid fitness and health freaks. Skip to stuff I like, please," exclaimed Tony as he entered the elevator.

"Leftover pizza, half a coconut pie, sandwiches made by Mr. Barton from last week, whipped cream, Greek yogurt, and should I mention some freezer items?" JARVIS listed.

"Why not? Are there any gluten free waffles in the freezer?"

"Yes sir. Along with a pepperoni pizza, mini pancakes, and raspberries."

"Who the hell keeps raspberries in the freezer?" Tony made a face.

"You do, sir."

"Whatever."

Exiting the elevator and entering the kitchen, it felt like an earthquake in his stomach as it rumbled. "You'd think I swallowed Thor..." he muttered to himself.

It was pitch black, and therefore he tripped over a wooden chair on his way to the fridge. "Ow! J, turn on the fucking lights!" he cussed again for good measure.

Immediently, the lights flipped on, filling his vision with pure whiteness for a split second. When his eyes adjusted, he made his way to the fridge and located the pie JARVIS had talked about earlier. Sure enough, there was about half of it left. Enough to keep him full for a few days. Grabbing a fork, he began stuffing the creamy tropical goodness into his mouth. He was hungrier than he thought. However, he couldn't help but pulling out a beer to drown the pie with. A perfect combination. If only he was sitting at a beach.

He had eaten a good portion of the pie before sticking his head back into the fridge. There was two slices of Hawaiian pizza on a paper plate and therefore he grabbed it and popped it in the microwave. But at 3 am and lacking the necessary amount of sleep for a normal person, Tony forgot some rather important thing. He watched the countdown and reached for the microwave when-

**BBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! **

**BBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! **

**BBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!**

"HOLY FUCKING MOTHER OF JESUS CHRIST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he screamed at the microwave, and punched the button. The door flew open and banged him in the forehead. "WHAT IS YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING PROBLEM YOU MESSED UP ELECTRONIC PIECE OF SHIT! I AM GOING TO FUCKING BLOW YOU OUT OF THE WALL!" Tony threatened the imamate object.

"Wow. And I thought the coffee machine and I had some serious relationship issues."

Tony knew that voice. With a sigh, he leaned against the counter, facing away from the figure behind him. He literally had just lost his dignity before Steve no doubt smirking and leaning in the doorway. "How much of that did you see?"

"I've been watching you since I heard you trip over the chair. Kinda woke me up."

"Well _sorrr-yyyy_. But to be honest, a cat meowing two miles away could wake you up, Mr. America," Tony faced the Captain. His blonde hair was ruffled and not its usual combed perfection, and he wore loose sweats and a tight white Tshirt that outlined his muscles, especially the abs. It was rather attractive.

"What are you even doing, Stark? It's three-thirty and you're in here eating."

"Just got done working on a project. Oh, by the way, would you like to be my lab rat? I need to test my blinding lasers on someone."

"You're a jerk."

"Asshole."

"Good night, Tony." The soldier turned to leave, but Tony's voice stopped him. He didn't want Steve to go away, even though he was annoying as shit. Those toned muscles bulging under that almost-see-through shirt... It was tempting, and he wasn't even gay. Well, who knows. He's been drunk for half of his adulthood. He probably fucked some guy at one point or another.

"Wait! Um, do you, er, want some pizza?" Stark pulled the hot plate from the microwave and tossed it down on the counter.

Rogers kinda stared at him for a moment. Then the pizza. Then back to Stark. "Is it poisoned?"

"No. Actually, it's leftovers from God-knows how long ago. So there's most likely a 5.7841% chance."

Tipping his head to the side, Steve asked, "Leftovers have a 5% chance of being poisoned?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't have a major in food chemistry. Is that even a thing? It's a thing now. Wait. JARVIS, is food chemistry a thing?"

"As a matter of fact, it is, sir. Food chemistry is the study of chemical processes and interactions of all biological and non-biological components of foods. "

"Who the fuck came up with that?"

"Carl Wilhelm Scheele and Sir Humphry Davy, sir," JARVIS answered matter of factly.

"Where the hell do you even get this information?"

"Wikipedia, sir."

"If you're done threatening to murder kitchen appliances, I'm off to bed," Steve yawned and ran his fingers through his hair. Even though bed was sounding rather appealing to Tony, he wanted to to get the status of his and Steve's relationship from "I swear I won't try to murder you in your sleep" to "I trust that you don't give me poisoned pizza at an ungodly hour of the morning".

"Wanna have some coffee out on the balcony?"

"Why?" Steve raised an eyebrow.

What could they even talk about? Steve had a few good Army stories, and Tony had some batshit crazy nights he could talk about, but that just didn't seem right for the moment. "Let's just talk."

"About?"

"I don't know. The mission tomorrow?"

"What about it?"

"I don't know. Could we just...talk?"

"Hey, JARVIS? Is Tony alright?"

"Perfectly healthy, Sir Captain, except for his lack of food and sleep."

Steve just stared at Tony another moment. "Why do you willingly want to talk to me?"

Stark didn't really have an answer for that. Eventually, his mouth managed to form the words, "I don't really know. You're better company than the microwave."

"I'm better company than the microwave?"

"Yes."

"That's definitely an improvement."

"Can you tell me about my dad?"

**x.X.x**


End file.
